


What I Like About You

by DovahDoes



Series: A Little Amenadan AU [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: (Comme d'habitude), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Author Is Sleep Deprived, E rating is for 2nd chapter, Humor, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Intercrural Sex, Let's all find out together, M/M, Man these tags look odd out of context..., Pudding, Smut, Will Maze ever leave these two alone?, Wings, maybe? or at least an
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 06:17:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11374305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DovahDoes/pseuds/DovahDoes
Summary: A little collection that grew out of (what was originally) a few drabbles, and ended up becoming sizable ficlets, instead.Each chapter is loosely themed as relating to one feature/thing Dan or Amenadiel finds attractive about the other.*Ch.1 ~  HandsCh. 2 ~ Thighs





	1. Hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (80's songs are now the main source of fic titles for me, I guess.)
> 
> I really need to spend the witching hours asleep instead of writing in this AU. Also, at what point do I have to add 'Crack' to the tags for this series? Hahaha.
> 
> Anyhoot, this takes place a few weeks, maybe a month, after [Wake Me Up (Before You Go Go)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11159949). [And as this is an AU, Amenadiel has never actually attended one of the improv classes (yet?). Although I do _love_ that episode. c; ]

 

In the past, Dan has thought himself a pretty normal guy, as far as dating and sex go, anyway.  He’s always had a type (or _types_ , really): spitfire women that are slender of frame but expressive in their gaze have always gotten him going, and much the same has been true for men.

 

Now, though, the young father is not so sure about believing he has anything _approaching_ a ‘type’, as sometimes, the absolute _strangest_ things about his new paramour are proving to really ‘rev his engine’, so to speak.  Or, at the least, pique his intrigue and attraction.

 

For example, his _hands_. They aren’t particularly overlarge or anything, not for a guy of his height and size and everything, anyway, but something about them just seems to… really grab his attention at odd moments.

 

On occasion Amenadiel will meet up with him after his improv class, and on one noteworthy occasion— several weeks after their initial one-night-stand-turned-awkward-morning-after-incident— he had arrived early enough that the group was still finishing up clearing the stage of stray chairs and small props.  The stately male quirked a brow before his expression softened at the sight of his contented partner amidst the semi-controlled chaos of a gaggle of adults rushing through the process of cleaning up the allotted space.  (Their efforts were most definitely welcome, as the slot of time during which the tiny community theatre was rented out had been coming to a close rather imminently.)

 

Without much thought, the newcomer simply joined the fray— quickly stacking and picking up an impressive number of metal folding chairs before placing them on a nearby cart, backstage, and then repeating the process.

 

Realizing that he, himself had stopped working in favour of just watching the way strong, dexterous fingers and broad palms fitted themselves around various items, Dan blinked several times and brought himself back into the moment.

 

Glancing at several other attendees, he noticed they, too, were unabashedly staring at the rather impressive displays of strength (and very likely, the rather impressively handsome guy that was performing them).  He breathed a quiet chuckle before getting the attention of the handful of helpful stragglers.

 

“Alright, guys, thanks again for another awesome session!  And for sticking around to help out—I really appreciate it,” he said, smiling.  “Now shoo!  We’ll get whatever’s left and lock up, here.”

 

A few people called out farewells and carried out brief conversations with one another as they made their way down the theatre aisles and toward the exits.  That done, he shifted his grip on the collapsed folding table in his grasp and hoisted its full weight off the ground with a small grunt, carefully moving toward the area just behind the huge red curtain where he could see several other set pieces they’d used, earlier.

 

Halfway there, he hissed a curse as he felt the dusty surface begin slipping steadily from the grip of his tightly clamped digits, and summarily prepared for a resonating crack when the furthest corner of the unbalanced wooden mass would imminently meet the stage.  Instead, though, nearly the entire weight he’d been bearing abruptly disappeared.

 

Or rather, Amenadiel had done that weird thing with time, again, probably, and had swooped in to help him not make a significant and unrepairable dent in the floor.  Damningly, their arms had brushed together, momentarily, as the taller of the two had rushed in to brace up and take on the bulk of the sizeable piece of furniture, inexplicably sending Dan’s pulse skyrocketing in the process.

 

Bemused already by the blatant ogling his younger lover had been engaging in during the past several minutes of shared menial labour, Amenadiel merely huffed a chuckle, raised a brow, and swiftly hefted the full weight of the table right on over to the pile of others of its like.

 

When he turned back around, it was to find the other male fastidiously keeping his gaze on his own work as he wedged a chair into the small gap remaining on the dolly packed with perhaps every other folding seat that had ever seen the light of day.  Thus, with a smirk so devilish it might well have made his recalcitrant brother proud, he silently approached his lover, wanting to see if the little hunch he’d been turning over in his mind might just be accurate.

 

"Daniel,” he said, his arms crossed, leaning lightly on the corner of a random piece of scenery hidden in the backstage area just in back of the curtain, and right behind the suddenly evasive detective, “do you need a _hand_ with anything else?”

 

Having not heard the other draw near, the young man whirled around, pale grey-green eyes a bit wide and cheeks starting to pink from embarrassment.

 

“I— a _hand_?  I— what?” he sputtered **,** gaze flashing conspicuously to sturdy hands tucked behind and over muscled biceps, before darting to the side as he became even more obviously flustered.

 

Unable to help himself, Amenadiel chortled fondly in amusement as the other man muttered a quiet ‘oh my _God_ ’ to himself in seemingly mortified disappointment, having utterly failed to keep his cool in front of his significant other.

 

Taking pity on his lover, and with his hypothesis having been confirmed, the statuesque seraph moved in close to the flushed human and gently cradled the smooth-shaven jaw, which had been tense and lightly clenched up until that moment.  When eyes like polished moonstone met his, again, they were calmer, even as the dark pupils within them slowly began to swallow up the captivating colour they were ringed by.

 

Amenadiel knew he’d had something humorous and reassuring to say, but instead found himself keenly interested in watching as Dan absently licked his lips, agile pink tongue making a quick appearance and leaving slightly parted lips glossy and wet in its wake.

 

The pair of hands that had initially come to comfortably rest on his hips tightened briefly, and the steadfast heavenly being felt the long pendant on his necklace tap against his sternum as he reflexively swayed forward toward the inviting figure before him.

 

He managed to open his mouth to finally retort a (hopefully) clever rejoinder, when the warm pressure at one hip slipped under the fabric of his shirt, straight up his bare side with a pleasant sort of gliding sensation, and then unerringly had moved around to his back.  The moment blunt nails scraped with deliberate, mostly tender purpose over one of his hyper-sensitive scapulae, the intention to form any words completely fled his brain, and with a nearly sub-vocal growl, he closed any distance between their bodies, initiating an almost desperate, passionate kiss.

 

His human companion exhaled breathily, groaning lightly as Amenadiel pressed in even closer, stroking along his cheek tenderly with his thumb, even as their somewhat sweet embrace devolved pretty quickly into something decidedly less appropriate for public consumption.

 

With his other hand pulling the police detective closer by a beltloop to the side of his jeans, and all his attention focused on the all-consuming pleasure of expressing his affections for his human paramour, the preoccupied angel totally missed the crescendoing sound of footsteps, even as they became audible to his more mundane companion.  (That may have been entirely due to the pair of hands that had been freely exploring the skin underneath his canvas jacket and soft Henley, with one straying more and more often beneath the waistband of his pants, and the other still occasionally, teasingly, grazing over the highly erogenous area around his shoulder blades.)

 

It was entirely possible that they may _never_ have taken notice of their new audience, if not for the jarringly bright and abrupt flash of blinding white light that had them gasping as they sprung apart, the veteran law enforcement officer’s hand reaching for the place where his service weapon was usually holstered, and the battle-ready angel standing at an angle with his arm in position to bear the weight of a weapon he rarely saw need to summon (at least, not on the mortal plane).

 

Except that the only threat to their continued existence happened to be an unbearably smug-looking Maze, who merely grinned, shark-like, before tapping the screen of her phone, again— that time _without_ flash, thankfully— and lowering the device in order to bring it closer to her face to do only God-knew-what.

 

Already having realized his defeat, Dan simply sighed a heartfelt ‘Goddamnit’ into his hand before sliding it down and off his face, immediately resorting to the tried and true Exasperated Facepalm move that had become the go-to reaction to a variety of situations ever since ‘Lucifer Morningstar & Co’ had barged their way into his life by way of his ex-wife.

 

Amenadiel was far less quick to cede any advantage to the ever-mischievous hellion still rapidly tapping away at whatever app or activity.

 

“Maze,” he intoned, trying for a stern delivery **,** “ _what_ exactly are you doing here?”

 

Having her full out laugh condescendingly at his question wasn’t his intention, but it was exactly what happened, and it only served to further irritate him.  Mostly because the time could have been better utilised re-engaging in his former activities with his lover, who was now arm-to-arm with him, leaning slightly into his body.  The man was already mostly tidied up, with not much to show for what they had just been doing, save for reddened, slightly swollen lips, and a remaining pinkish cast to his complexion along his cheekbones.

 

For all that he had been warned of in his many years, temptation was rarely so tangible and close at hand…

 

“Oh my _God,_ ” came a disbelieving, plaintive voice from before him, again, drawing his attention back to the now very unamused demon that stood before them, arms crossed.  “You two horny idiots completely forgot, didn’t you?”

 

Amenadiel furrowed his brows in confusion, glancing to his right at his companion, who simply shrugged, mouthing ‘I dunno’ at him in response.  Both glanced back at the newcomer, perplexed, who then sighed in long-suffering disgust and barely-assembled patience.

 

“The _bar_?  You guys were supposed to meet me at the bar down the block, like, 20 minutes ago for dinner and drinks.  _Remember_?  You were like ‘Ah yes!  The same place at which we all gathered before Daniel and I had our first, _very_ memorable sexual encounter several weeks ago!’” she said, in a rather spot-on— if more than a bit mocking— impression of Dan’s boyfriend.

 

The very same one who looked exceedingly sheepish, all of a sudden.

 

“Ah,” he mused aloud.  “Right.  The bar.   I actually came here to collect Daniel so that we could head over, but instead ended up assisting he and his class’ attendees clean up the area.  My apologies.”

 

She looked on at them both, clearly unimpressed, but edging back toward amusement with every moment before finally tucking away her phone, even as it buzzed once, loudly.

 

“Uh _huh_.  Is _that_ what they’re calling it now?  Because to me, it looked a _lot_ more like you two were about to do the dirty, backstage in this moldy old theatre, voyeuristic caretaker be damned.”

 

Dan’s eyes widened, panicked anew.

 

“Wait— the _caretaker_?  She’s been here _watching_?”

 

Amenadiel glared at Maze, as unamused at his lover’s harried flurry of questions as she was visibly delighted.

 

“She’s kidding, Dan.  Besides those attending tonight’s session, we’ve been the only ones here all evening.”

 

Her fun having been foiled, the leather-clad woman frowned up at the wet blanket of an angel, before flipping her artfully coiffed hair over one shoulder and neatly vaulting off the stage’s edge and strolling up the aisle, having clearly deigned the conversation to be over.

 

“Ugh,” the worn-out detective expressed succinctly before rolling his eyes heavenward, and then sighing as he followed Maze’s example— making his exit via stage left, instead.  The weighty ‘floomth’ of wings flapping on a strong downbeat had him turning about in place, halfway to the exit, _just_ in time to see a hyper-bright pinprick of light wink out, leaving no hint that a 6-foot-plus man had been standing in that same spot only moments ago.

 

Hmph— the guy never offered him a convenient celestial Über ride when he wanted one, he mused petulantly, arms crossed, until a resonating bellow caught his attention.

 

“Hey, Hangover!  Move that sweet little ass of yours: karaoke starts in 5 minutes, and if we’re late, I’m gonna’ post all those pictures I just took of you guys on FaceBook!”

 

His heart might have skipped a beat; _all_ those pictures?  Just how many had she taken before they’d noticed she was there?

 

_Shit._

 

*

 

(In the end, Dan beat not only Mazikeen, but amazingly, Amenadiel, as well, to the bar.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Hm... I think up next it's 'Dressed Up' or 'Clothes'.)
> 
> Not sure I like this one so much. The beginning feels especially rough, but mainly, I lost the thread of the original idea/prompt ('Hands') pretty quickly....
> 
> Ah well, I really am still a pretty new writer, so everything's sort of a learning experience for me, still, I guess.
> 
> *
> 
> Come check out my [writing blog](http://dovahdoeswrite.tumblr.com), where I post early fic snippets and keep you updated on what i'm working on in what fandoms!
> 
> Kudos and comments are love: feel free to leave me some, kind readers~. (ღˇ◡ˇ)~♥


	2. Thighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's basically 2,000+ words of smut. Like, it's some internal monologue, and then Amenadiel fucks Dan's thighs.
> 
> So.
> 
> To the half dozen people reading my Amenadan fics: enjoy? Haha.
> 
> P.S. This takes place about 2 months after [Wake Me Up (Before You Go Go)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159949).

 

Inhabiting a semi-mortal body for an extended length of time has revealed quite a few things about himself to Amenadiel that he could never have imagined discovering.  One of the bigger concepts has been that of ‘attraction’, something he has experienced many times in many of its different forms.

 

When he’d first come to realize just how delightful carnal delights could be, it had actually been an important step, as it helped the angel begin to figure out how to separate romantic and physical attraction, which he had naively conflated with one another several times for Mazikeen.

 

Yes, she’d taught him how to do ‘the thing’ with his tongue— which, apparently, Lucifer had taught _her_ eons ago— but it had also been a lesson in learning to separate and analyse his feelings fully when choosing to engage in any kind of intimacy with someone.

 

That being said, when he’d finally gotten to ‘engage in intimacy’ with Detective Daniel Espinoza two months ago, he’d very quickly realized he was in deep— deeper than he had been with anyone else in his time on Earth.  And so it had been an obvious next step to pursue a proper relationship with the man, even if the human had been a bit skittish about the idea, initially.

 

And now, he has the privilege of calling Daniel his significant other, thanks to that decision.  Admittedly, he’s now very much aware that both he and Dan perpetuate a number of stereotypes of what Lucifer calls ‘a nauseatingly soppy, romantic couple’, but that has become almost a point of pride for him.  It’s not every person on the planet who finds so perfect a match, after all.  (His father _must_ have blessed this union between he and the younger man, what with the way his wings and other assorted powers have come back in full force since beginning their physical [and romantic] relationship.)

 

Anyway, all this is just to say that just because he _does_ have ‘soppy, romantic’ feeling for the police detective, it certainly doesn’t preclude his having some intensely lusty, libidinous feelings for him, too.  It’s a bit of a revelation, but he’s begun to add two and two together in regards to his affinity for a certain, generally innocuous part of Daniel’s form.

 

To be frank, Amenadiel _very much_ likes Dan’s thighs.  They’re a perfect balance between slender and muscled— actually, according to his mortal lover, “practically every day has to be leg day” to maintain such a state.  (He’s bashfully mentioned his legs have always tended more toward resisting muscle or definition than keeping them.  ‘Chicken legs’ is what he’d referred to himself as having had in his youth, much to Amanediel’s amused confusion.)

 

Regardless, whatever his lover is doing during his work outs is really, well, _working out_ , as far as the angel is concerned.  Feeling and seeing those sleek muscles shifting when Dan’s legs are tangled with his while they drift off to sleep always sends a sleepy flare of interest through his body, even while he's more unconscious than awake.

 

Observing him on the job, working a scene and occasionally squatting down to better peer at some minuscule piece of evidence on the ground or atop a lower surface is also a uniquely pleasant sight.  The fabric of fitted, dark wash jeans or other similarly cut material being pulled taut over the perfectly toned muscles never fails to draw his interested gaze.

 

It also goes without saying that the handful of times he’s gone to the beach with his lover and has been blessed to watch him walking about the damp, sandy dunes in a _very_ tight wetsuit, have been truly indelible in his memory.

 

However, perhaps the most obvious, and painfully stereotypical situation that he _loves_ to find himself in is watching those gorgeous thighs tensing and flexing in a multitude of situations related to their making love.  Amenadiel thoroughly enjoys running his hands up their downy undersides before eventually hooking the other man’s knees up over his forearms to achieve a more pleasurable angle for penetration. The angel has also been known to reach back and grip at one of the sweat-covered thighs behind his own when his mortal lover takes him from behind with particular vigor and skill.

 

Today, he’s had the luck to engage in just such an activity.  At the moment, Daniel’s thighs are straining— nearly _trembling_ — because Amenadiel has instructed the younger man not to move a muscle while receiving a particularly drawn out session of fellatio.

 

As it occasionally happens this had evolved from an initially idle, teasing remark that had been exacerbated by their healthy egos and then snowballed into a real challenge with requisite (pudding-related) stakes attached.

 

The result is that his lover lies beneath him, flushed chest heaving, defined abdomen fluttering, legs quivering in an effort not to thrust up into the perfect, wet suction being methodically applied to his manhood.

 

“Nnnnghhff _fuck_ , Amenadiel!”  Dan croaks out, breathlessly between almost pained-sounding whimpers.  “ _Please_ , for God _’s_ sake.  Lemme _move_ , already!”

 

With an absolutely obscene sound, the preoccupied seraphim pulls away from the blood-engorged phallus and uses one hand to casually wipe at the saliva that’s been running down and through the neatly shaved facial hair on his chin.  Pushing himself to rest higher up on one elbow, he uses his now spit-slick hand to grip and slowly stroke the glistening erection with precision, his grip just short of too tight.  Amenadiel grins winningly, even as he speaks with a voice shot through with a bit of a rasp acquired purely through his task at hand— one which he almost subconsciously prolongs, in spite of the way the hips below him jump and then still in aborted motions.

 

“Oh— cutting today’s wager short?Alright.  I have to confess that although it is uniquely pleasurable to take you apart through multiple extended sessions of edging, I’d really just like to skip to the end, too.”

 

Almost faster than Amenadiel can believe, Dan surges upward and leans over to pull him into an impassioned kiss.  As is wont to happen, a fierce surge of electric lust zings through the angel’s body at the contact, and he growls in response, rising up more fully in order to bear the younger man backward into the pillows at the bed’s head, deepening the embrace.

 

Finally free to move as he wishes, the amorous detective bends one knee up, slightly, cradling the larger body above him when it sprawls haphazardly over his own in pursuit of a more comfortable position.

 

“Ah, _shit_ ,” he eventually pants out, pulling back to draw in lungfuls of breath that he always seems to require far before the older male.

 

Amenadiel’s eyes, currently smoldering like two pieces of super-heated sard, go half-lidded, and his skin and the air around his form begin to ever-so-slightly exude a familiar, subtle glow.

 

The mortal half of the couple quickly loses track of that though, when his lover again melds their lips in a far sloppier kiss, one full of the occasional bite, and more than a few shared, open-mouthed, panting breaths.  With increasing frequency, meanwhile, their lower halves grind together, drawing out the aforementioned gasps, groans, and stuttered exhalations.

 

Although Dan’s hands have alternated between gripping at one of his celestial paramour’s firm glutes, and the back of a barely damp neck, said angel’s available hand is committed to its current activity: stroking steadily at both of their dicks while they thrust into the open ring of pressure.

 

(Amenadiel’s other forearm rests on the bed, near Dan’s head, keeping the angel’s torso and upper body  elevated above the human’s.)

 

With an almost desperate groan, the angel suddenly leans back and away from his lover and abruptly ceases his mindless oscillations against the other man, who immediately bucks up into empty air with a frustrated, cut-off sound.

 

“Wh-what the _hell_ , Ame—” he says, voice strangled and a half-octave up from where it usually sits, only to stop short as a pair of feathery appendages materializes behind his bed-partner.

 

“Dan.  Daniel,” the angel above him pants, holding onto his own dick by the base, a bead of precome rolling down the dark column of flesh.  “Can I— I _want_ to.  Between your _thighs_. _Please_.”

 

Catching on immediately (and having done this quite a few times already with him), Dan gamely rolls onto his side, barely refraining from tugging on his erection to relieve some tension.  Instead, he looks over his shoulder to peer at Amenadiel and licks his lips at exactly how much the typically restrained angel has seemingly lost control— and on account of _him_ , no less.

 

It’s fucking _hot_ and has him feeling even more breathless.

 

“Yes, _yes_.  C’ _mon_ — gonna come without you, soon.”

 

Without much preamble, he’s being rolled onto his front by a horny seraphim, and hardly has time to bow part of his back and lift his pelvis off the bed to leave space for his own hand to move about down there with less restriction.

 

A set of lightly furred legs bracket his own, and nudge him into keeping both of his own legs tightly squeezed together.  At the same time as Dan finally, mercifully begins to stroke himself closer and closer to climax, a hot hand firmly takes a hold of the outer part of his thigh as an anchor point to the rod of scalding flesh that begins to rapidly thrust itself in the tight space between the widest part of his upper thighs.

 

It’s not long before their voices begin to rise in volume as they rapidly approach orgasm.  Dan’s intermittent invectives get louder as Amenadiel’s thrusts soon begin to slip higher and higher up, thanks to the perspiration beading all over his body, and he again bites his lip as the head of the other man’s penis occasionally glances across his balls or makes contact with the bottom of his shaft.  At the same time, the bed really begins to rock when the angel, also nearing his peak, begins to put more erratic power into each pump forwards, his gasps and harsh breaths crescendoing.

 

With one last twist of his hand over the sensitive glans on his dick, Dan swears and chokes out his lover’s name, body tensing for several moments as he coats his fingers and the bedding below him in semen.

 

“Fu— _Amenadiel_!”

 

As though a switch is flipped, Amenadiel’s own orgasm hits him like a freight train, and he clamps down on Daniel’s thigh with a grip that is sure to later leave a bruise.  His weight drops almost bonelessly onto the younger man as his hips thrust mindlessly two or three times more and end up leaving his gradually softening member to leave an utter mess all over Daniel’s legs and the mussed sheets beneath them.

 

A jumble of nonsensical sweet nothings leave his mouth as his brain tries to unscramble itself.  He is aware, distantly, of his wings having frozen briefly in place at the peak of his pleasure, and that they are now fluttering ever-so-slowly and blowing warm currents of air about the room and their bodies in the aftermath.

 

Exhaling and letting his head rest against Dan’s perspiration-slick spine for a moment, he presses a brief kiss to the salty skin before rolling his shoulders and pushing back onto his haunches for a moment.

 

“ _Damn_ ,” he finally utters, shifting to plop down on his behind, knees bent and legs askew, one foot ending up wedged underneath one of his lover’s calves.  His wings finally seem to bend to his will, again, now that more of his blood is returning to the head that contains his brain.

 

With a chuckle, the younger of the pair rolls over onto his back, strategically removing himself from the several fresh wet spots they had each contributed to so recently.  Running a hand through sweat-dampened hair and shooting him an unguarded (but roguish) smile, the detective’s grey-blue eyes twinkle as he observes his lover, who seems to be a bit distracted, still.

 

Amenadiel’s eyes cannot help but to trace the glistening portions of the man’s inner thighs that the remains of his own release have left behind.  As always, he has the option to allow his body’s libido to climb, but tearing his gaze away from its current focus and seeing his mortal lover’s completely relaxed physique has him tamping down the ability.

 

“So,” Dan says, sitting up and then glancing down before scratching at the quickly drying bits of cum on his toned stomach and lower sternum.  “You… have a thing about my thighs, now?”

 

Light eyes lift back up to meet dark, and the angel shrugs, suede grey wings mirroring the motion.

 

“Mm,” he hums, grinning freely with a soft look in his eyes that belies the fact that they are both still completely naked and spackled with a particularly tacky bodily fluid.  “I suppose I do.  I hadn’t thought of it in that way, but yes— I seem to have developed a particularly intense affinity for that part of your body.”

 

Dan huffs a quiet laugh, ever amused by Amenadiel’s typical lack of bashfulness in regard to his sexual proclivities.  Generally, it’s a refreshing change from the way most people— himself included—operate, even if it also embarrasses the hell out of him in situations where a bit of tact or reservation would be nice from his partner.

 

“Well… that’s kind of flattering, I have to say.  God knows how many things about _you_ kind of— y’know— do it for me, too.  But we both know I’m pretty gone on you, already, right?”

 

When Amenadiel’s wings flutter in titillated interest (a sentiment reflected in the angel’s raised eyebrow and intrigued expression), the uncomfortable sensation of certain fluids beginning to dry and harden provides the detective with a perfectly convenient out to their post-coital chat, which seems to have just been turning to focus on his own list of ‘particularities’.

 

“’ _Do it_ for you?” the seraphim asks, perplexed, watching the younger man’s face begin to reacquire a bit of the reddening it had mostly lost.

 

Picking his way carefully over to the edge of the bed (and trying not to leave any more unseemly stains on the formerly pristine comforter set), Dan clears his throat, slides onto the floor, and begins to circle around towards the open doorway across the room.

 

“Uh yeah, Babe.  You can… ask Lucifer about that one next time you see him.  I’ve, uh, gotta hit the shower, since you decided to leave a frankly ridiculous amount of “physical evidence” all over me, just now.  So…”

 

Leaning over the bed’s edge, he presses a kiss to the upturned lips of his lover as he passes by, ending up leaning in for a warmer, lengthier liplock than he’d intended.  Pulling back, he almost has to shake himself when his thoughts begin to cloud and his body starts to gear back up for a second round they absolutely do _not_ have time for.

 

Absently reaching a hand back, he gently moves the large wing that Amenadiel had unconsciously curled around his body back and down in a well-practiced motion.

 

“Alright—  you _know_ we have a dinner to get ready for, so feel free to join me in the shower if you can get your feathery friends back under control and put them away.  We’re already never gonna hear the end of it, since I’ll show up probably _still_ glowing from this bit of afternoon delight.”

 

Unconcerned, Amenadiel outright laughs as he stands and stretches his body, from flexed toes and outstretched arms to wings that extend to nearly brush the opposite walls in the room.

 

“Right,” he replies, wryly.  “And who was the one who agreed to bet lasting through a blowjob without moving for an unreasonably expensive supply of ‘artisanal pudding’?  Because it sure wasn’t me that took that joke way too seriously.”

 

Pausing and shivering once, Amenadiel hides his wings, again, and resumes walking forward _just_ in time for the bathroom door to slam in his face.

 

“Dan?” he says, trying to tamp down on his amused smile. “Daniel?  Do you need help with getting rid of the glow?  Because otherwise, Maze is bound to open up that Google Doc of 'Amenadan-related One-Liners' that she and Lucifer share.”

 

A frustrated sigh-groan is just barely audible over the sound of water hitting the floor of the large shower stall.

 

“…Dan?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Dan and Amenadiel have a standing invitation to dinner with Maze and Linda. And yes, Maze and Lucifer really do have a shared Google Doc where they store and collaborate on potential roasts of the Amenadan couple. (Because of _course_ they do.)  
>  *
> 
> You know, I'm not a prolific/amazing smut writer, so maybe the more I write, the better it'll get. ;P Good Lord, what have I become? Hahaha
> 
> Anyway, I'm working on ideas for the next few updates in this series' main story line, so yes, I _am_ still planning to continue this series. c:  
>  *
> 
> Come check out [my writing blog](https://dovahdoeswrite.tumblr.com/), where I post early fic snippets and keep you updated on what i'm working on in what fandoms!
> 
> Kudos and comments are love: feel free to leave me some, kind readers~. (ღˇ◡ˇ)~♥


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